


Really Sweet

by RakishRebel



Category: South Park
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, Awkward Sexual Situations, Cute, Dessert & Sweets, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluffy Ending, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Romance, Sexual Humor, Sexual Tension, Short & Sweet, Sweet, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-06-01 00:43:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6494134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RakishRebel/pseuds/RakishRebel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poor Clyde is starting to feel rejected, as he sits alone in a restaurant waiting for his date who will never show up. Luckily for him, a charismatic and sweet waiter is able to cheer him up a bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Really Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know in the comments what you think of this ^.^ Even a small message makes my day  
> (I got the phone number from this random phone number site I don't know whether it is possible)

Really Sweat

My watch told me it was exactly three past eight. Oh wait, four past eight. Time flew by when waiting for someone who would never show up.  
Yes, that’s right, I thought. I was Clyde Donovan, a self-conscious eighteen year old guy who hadn’t kissed anybody in at least five years. And just when I thought I had got myself a date, my date didn’t show up. The thought that I had been ditched didn’t come to me until the first fifty minutes passed and after that I felt extremely embarrassed. Humiliated.  
For many years I had had the idea I was a charismatic guy, perhaps a flirty one, but also a romantic one. That idea had changed once I realised no-one was actually flattered by my comments – in fact, people thought I was obnoxious, irritating even. I tried being more open to people, being more understanding, stealing tactics from friends, but here I was, sitting alone in a restaurant with the few people that were left giving me apologetic looks, as if my facial expression revealed everything about my disastrous love-life. Maybe it did.  
The restaurant was getting empty at this hour, for most people had finished their meals and had left. It was a small place, but also very cosy, with dark red walls and little candles on the tables. The fireplace heated up the place nicely and the wooden floor exaggerated the sound of footsteps every time a waiter walked by my table. Although the place was about to close, the aroma of warm meals hadn’t escaped the place, as if the place absorbed the smell and would never let go of it again. The family in the left corner of the place was having desserts and judging from their gestures and laughs, the father was telling a funny anecdote. The couple behind me shared a bowl of ice-cream.  
Should I get up and leave, or would that be considered rude? After all, I had only reserved a table to have a few drinks at the end of the day. I felt like leaving, but part of me hadn’t given up hope yet. Besides, the pouring rain clattering against the windows didn’t encourage me to put back on my coat anytime soon.  
I sighed again, but I looked up once I heard approaching footsteps that surprisingly stopped at my table. I laid my eyes on the tall and pale waiter that had served the people in here for what I guessed were quite some hours. His working clothes fitted well around his slim gesture, although the noirette had chosen to wear his white blouse outside of black pants instead of tucking it in. The black apron, folded horizontally and wrapped around his waist, exposed a few stains here and there. On his right shoulder laid a checkered, dirty-looking dishcloth. The black tie around his neck looked a bit messily knotted too, as if the boy was in a hurry when putting it on. His hair was, on the contrary, well taken care of and showed neatly applied hair gel on the sides. Only now I noticed few earrings in his left ear.  
His hand put a small, porcelain plate in front of me that was decorated with pink and yellow flowers. On top of it, there was a little piece of strawberry cake with a matching cherry atop.  
‘’I’m sorry, I didn’t order this,’’ I explained to him.  
The boy, who was I guessed around my age, cleared his throat before responding: ‘’It’s on the house.’’  
‘’Oh… uhm, thank you,’’ I thanked him. ‘’That is… nice of you.’’ I gave him an awkward smile. Of course the staff had noticed my pathetic attitude and had given me this in an attempt to cheer me up – that was not uncommon for restaurants to do. Nonetheless, I appreciated the small gesture.  
The boy suddenly let out a long sigh. ‘’Listen here man,’’ he said as he took the chair on the other side of my table. He sat on the piece of furniture backwards, his arms folded on the back of it and his legs wide apart. ‘’I’m not done with my shift till eleven tonight. I get constantly rude comments from customers for not being quick enough. And my boss just bit off my back for dropping a few plates. Also, the kitchen is a huge mess and I’m expected to do overtime to help with cleaning it up. I think my day is going worse than yours.’’  
His voice sounded nasal and a bit monotone too, disabling me from telling whether he was trying to make me feel better or whether he was mocking me. I was a bit taken aback by his sudden out-pouring and I had difficulty with finding my words.  
‘’Oh ehm… that sucks,’’ was all I managed to say.  
‘’You should thank them,’’ was his answer.  
‘’Thank whom?’’ I asked confused.  
‘’Your date, I mean,’’ he spoke again, ‘’for not showing up. Now at least you know what an asshole they are.’’  
I was amazed by his informal use of language and a few chuckles escaped from my mouth. ‘’Maybe you’re right,’’ I responded.  
‘’So, are you gonna eat that or what?’’ The boy made a gesture with his head towards the cake in front of me. I had almost forgotten about it.  
‘’Oh, of course,’’ I spoke. Not wanting to seem rude or ungrateful, I tried a piece of the cake and it tasted pretty well. The sweet strawberry flavour was accompanied by an airy texture and the whipped cream was extremely… well, creamy. It had been a while since I tasted a cake this good.  
‘’Not bad at all,’’ I told the boy with a wide grin. ‘’Compliment the chef for me if you feel like it,’’ I added.  
‘’The chef? That grumpy old bastard? Nah, dude.’’ The boy made a gesture with his hand that revealed his disregard for the man. ‘’He’s not worth it. A compliment will only stroke his ego.’’  
He snorted as he moved his hand in my direction. Within a split second, he had grabbed the cherry of my cake between his thumb and index finger. He removed the stam from the pulp with his teeth and soon he had swallowed the piece of fruit. His fingers played a little with the stem.  
‘’So are you not used to ditching or not getting used to it?’’ The boy further asked me.  
I didn’t know how to answer his question. Should I be honest, or would I then come off as pathetic? Oh, what the Hell.  
‘’This was supposed to be my first date in quite a while,’’ I confessed with my mouth full of cake. ‘’But you can see how that ended.’’  
The waiter boy snickered in response. ‘’We all have those days. Don’t let it get you down.’’ He put the stem of the cherry in his mouth and a little later, he showed me his tongue. He had knotted the small thing in his mouth. How did he do that?  
‘’How did you -?’’ I began.  
‘’Oh, you mean knotting it?’’ he responded as he put the stem on the side of my plate. ‘’Just a little trick. But you know what they say about people who have this skill.’’ He leaned in a little and daringly raised one of his thick eyebrows, which was pierced at the end, at me. His eyes, which were greyish-blue upon closer look, showed a mischievous look in them.  
I almost choked on my cake as I realised what he was referring to. Soon I felt blood flowing to my cheeks, making them radiating quite a lot of heat. Was he hitting on me, or just playing around? Was he going anywhere with this?  
‘’Y-Yeah,’’ I brought out, nervously scratching my neck with the nails of my free hand. ‘’I-I know.’’  
‘’Well then, why don’t we give it a shot?’’ The boy pulled something out of his back pocket and laid it on the table as he stood up from his chair and walked away from me. His movements were rather gracious for a dude like that, I noticed. It struck me.  
What struck me even more, was what he had left on my table. After opening the red napkin, I was able to read what the mediocre handwriting said.

‘’202-555-0121  
Call me sometime if you’d like to go on a real date  
-Craig’’

With open mouth I stared at the writing and read it a couple of more times. This cake wasn’t the only thing that was really… sweet.


End file.
